The Northern Kingdom: Usagi Yojimbo
by stopbeingbored
Summary: UY!Comic!Verse. AU. Eventual Katanashipping. Miyamoto Usagi is a wandering ronin. His travels lead him to the northern shores of Japan where the lands of the Hamato clan lie... / Ongoing . Rating is T for now, with darker themes in later chapters. / Chapter Five: Tomoe asked him to stay, but he left. Now Raphael asked him to leave - but the castle seems unwilling to let him go...
1. Prologue

**Warnings**: _Eventual LeoUsagi. Edo!Japan!AU. I'm by no means an expert, I just know how to use google. Later chapters will turn darker. Be prepared for violence, emotional abuse, torture and other dark themes. All chapters will come with individual warnings. If you need to skip one, you can always message me for a K+ summary. (There will also be fun bits, though. Always look out for the fun bits.)_

**Notes: **_Chapters will probably be quite short. I'll try to polish up and publish at least one a week, but I am currently working fulltime while in the process of moving, so bear with me._

**AU Explanation: **_Miyamoto Usagi is a wandering ronin. His travels lead him to the northern parts of Japan, where the lands of the Hamato clan lie…_

**Chapter Summary**: _Goodbyes aren't easy at the best of times. These aren't the best of times. / Usagi's POV.  
_

* * *

**THE NORTHERN KINGDOM:  
USAGI YOJIMBO**

* * *

**Prologue**

* * *

"I really wished you wouldn't go," Tomoe says quietly.

Usagi ties the last knot of his bag and slings it over his shoulder. He steps off the tatami mats, finds his sandals next to hers, slips into them. Only then does he turn around and face her. Tomoe is still standing in the doorway to the guest room where she is leaning against the wooden doorframe and almost, though not quite, blocking his exit.

She isn't smiling, and so he isn't either. He simply adjusts the strap of cloth over his chest and sighs.

"I really cannot strain your lord's hospitality any longer."

That is not what she meant. He knows it, and he knows that she knows that he knows it. Her expression is solemn when she regards him now, but she remains quiet. He hates it. In a way he is thankful for her silence, and he hates that, too, hates how his stomach churns when he reaches for his coat and she does not stop him. He keeps his eyes down when he fastens the straw kappa* around his shoulders and looks up only when she shifts against the wooden frame. She is making room for him to pass, still without even the trace of a smile, and he still feels like he owes her something. An apology, if nothing else.

"You know that the White Heron Castle will always have my loyalty," he says instead.

"But not enough to swear the oath," she says, and this time he does give her a slightly sheepish smile. It makes her laugh. "Do not worry about it, my friend. I know you are a ronin through and through. I would never take the road from you, even if I could."

Belying her words, this time it is her who sighs. But, being a warrior, she knows when she is defeated. When he approaches the door, she steps outside into the hallway. The close quarters force her back against the wall, and his trousers brush against hers when he moves past. That shouldn't feel intimate. It does, though. It does.

She _does_ stop him again once they reach the main doors, where she reaches out to brush some lint off the front of his haori**. For a moment the air is thick with a strangled intimacy. The heaviness drags them both down. When Usagi shifts his weight, her hand falls to her side and she steps back. Her expression is solemn again. When he passes her now, she remains stoic, unmoving, and he hates how he hates it.

They cross the gardens in silence, each distracted by their own thoughts. The day is already dawning, and the birds in the cherry trees along the main path are getting ready to announce the new light when Usagi reaches the gate and turns around.

Tomoe is standing beneath the pale petals just in front of the main building where her dono_***_ still sleeps. They have not disturbed anyone. Even the guards are standing so still that it is easy to forget their existence entirely. And behind Usagi the street curls around the sloping hills and disappears in the blue mist. It is probably very fitting, this scene and the time and both of them standing where they are, even if it doesn't feel that way. Usagi's fingers ache for an ink set. He bows instead, and so does she, and then he turns around and takes to the streets. There is no room for goodbyes, not with the day so fresh. He leaves it to the guards to close the gate behind him.

This isn't running. There are just so many places he has yet to see.

He will try the northern shores this time.

* * *

*_kappa /here/: A straw coat.  
**__haori: The long-sleeved, flowing garme__nt worn by samurai of that time. Upper half of the hitatare. Trousers are called 'hakama'.  
***dono /sometimes also spelled tono/: A lord, someone of high birth.  
_


	2. Chapter 1

**Warnings:** _Eventual LeoUsagi (katanashipping). Edo!Japan!AU set in the Usagi Yojimbo Comicverse. I am by no means an expert, I just know how to use google. Later chapters will turn towards darker themes. _

**Notes: **All_ chapters will come with individual warnings. If you need to skip one, drop me a message and I'll send you a K+ summary. Should you have any questions, feel free to contact me. Oh, and I can only recommend reading the UY comics. They are truly fantastic. _

**Chapter Summary:** _Sometimes the journey is its own reward. Sometimes the reward is another journey._

* * *

**THE NORTHERN KINGDOM:  
USAGI YOJIMBO  
**

* * *

**CHAPTER ONE**

* * *

The lands of the Geishu clan are green and fertile, and the roads that lead north are lined with rice terraces and farming communities. For a while Usagi sticks to the path, following through with his intentions to travel north; but when he reaches the borders of Geishu territory he takes west instead to where the ocean sprays the air with salt. The sea is beautiful in the spring, steel-colored and wild. When his steps finally do turn north again, they follow the coastal roads.

He despises leaving, but not as much as he loathes staying in one place for too long. Since he became a ronin he has found no place in all of Japan that is lovelier to him than the White Heron Castle, but there are only so many hot baths to be had before the dust of the street calls out to him again. And he follows it every time. Tomoe Ame, who is wise and kind and one more reason why he can't stay, thinks him a wanderer for the sake of wandering. _A ronin through and through, _she has called him many times. And every time, it hurts, because she couldn't be more wrong.

Though that is perhaps a bit unfair. His isn't a bad life, all things considered. True, he never has much money on him at the best of times, but when the weather gets rough and the night sky glazes over with frost there is always someone willing to take in a well-behaved wanderer in exchange for a story and a good day's work. And Usagi has never been afraid to work, never been averse to trying new things. Stringing sandals and lining parasols, as is the appropriate custom taken up by many samurai, have always seemed rather like necessary evils to him. Yes, people need shoes and protection from the weather, but first and foremost they need to eat. The process of retying sandal strings is familiar to him, but the memory of harvesting nori from the deck of a small boat still holds a special place in his heart.

Oh, of course he remembers other days, older days, when he would wake up in the same bed every morning and share his breakfast with the same group of people; when he would walk the same premises, beat after beat. He didn't loathe it back then, staying in one place. Not like this, anyway. But there is nothing he remembers that he could go back to now. The proud castle of the Mifune family has been burned to the ground so long ago that not even the ashes remain. And if he can't go back there – well, then he doesn't want to go 'back' to anything else, either.

If that is considered melodramatic, he doesn't care.

And yet, that is precisely where it hurts. When the nights are dark and storm clouds block out the stars and Usagi has no energy left to move, let alone start a fire, he feels like he can never be happy again anywhere else. And that _is _melodramatic, but a man can't fight his own heart. It comes back to him now, the old dark in his heart reacting to the old dark between the ragged cliff tops at night like friends meeting. He never allows himself to indulge in the feeling for very long, though. He has found happiness in many places, and as long as his heart is still beating, he will just have to keep believing that he will find it again.

The northern shores of Honshu are a wild place. Usagi rarely ever travels this far and never without good reason. This time, however, when he reaches the borders of his maps he keeps going further and then further still. Most clans that live here have to fight hard to survive every day. The power plays and intrigues that surround the provinces closer to Edo pale in comparison to the floods and storms that the sea brings in from the west. The locals have developed a very strict policy when it comes to strangers that boils down to them being unwelcome and generally treated with mistrust. Usagi finds scaly skin replacing fur, slitted eyes and forked tongues instead of the bushy tails and pointed ears that he is used to. The coins in his pockets dwindle rapidly, and by the time he finally reaches the Tsugaru-kaikyo he is already struggling.

Up here, the ocean is merely a thin line between Honshu and Hokkaido on the other side of the strait. The border of the Hachurui family on the main island clashes with that of the Hamato family further north. Both clans believe that the rich, warm water that follows a current through the strait is part of their inheritance. The fighting has been going on for years now. As the story often goes, an agreement could have been found ages ago if not for the fact that there has always been fighting and the higher-ups have forgotten to pass on how to stop. Indeed, as different as they may be in outer appearance, Usagi finds that people stay people wherever you go.

After listening to the inn owner's subdued complaints in polite silence for the better part of an hour he agrees to book a room for the next week. Against his better judgment he pays in advance. But then he can go no further to the north without leaving Honshu altogether, and he so longs for some silence, some time to think. When he looks out of the window of his small but neat room he can see all the way down the cliffs right to the waterfront. The water is bluer here than he remembers, like newly polished steel. That will have to do. In fact, it will do just fine.

Of course something goes wrong. Something always does. There are times when Usagi can't help but wonder if maybe he _attracts_ trouble somehow. But then he has never been particularly good at looking the other way. And so it happens that he is aimlessly strolling through the streets when he hears the yelling.

When he arrives at the scene (and of course his first instinct is to run _towards_ the screaming, _meddlesome rabbit_, Gen would say and be right), his hands immediately fly to his swords. The scene that unfolds before him is ugly to say the least. Usagi doesn't need backstory to understand what is happening. A large lizard merchant has an old rat in a vice grip by his tail. Sweet potatoes are strewn all over the place, and while a crowd is already gathering, nobody seems particularly intent on stopping the lizard. Truth be told, Usagi can't blame them – the merchant is particularly large and angry-looking, red scales shining in the afternoon sun, the usually slitted eyes wide and unfocused with rage. But someone has to step in. And so with a sigh, Usagi steps forward.

Immediately, the crowd stills. Usagi can tell that the lizard has heard him approach, but for the time being, his victim is still held aloft. It seems like a more direct approach is warranted.

"Why don't you do yourself a favour and release that man?"

And now the merchant turns and focuses on Usagi.

"Why don't _you_ do yourself a favour and stay out of this?"

His smile, like everything about him, is positively nightmare-inducing, a forked tongue flicking out between pointy teeth as he speaks. Everything about this screams danger, and the wiser bystanders are already taking the hint, turning away and disappearing down side alleys. For a second Usagi entertains the idea to join them, but he is too close now and anyway he couldn't forgive himself if something happened to the elderly man. So he stays, stands his ground with his feet just slightly apart and his hands raised in a portrayal of defensiveness, and forces a smile.

"This doesn't have to end in a fight," he says.

It's a lie, of course. The first fight has already taken place, if the vegetables on the ground and the gathered crowd are any indication. But it's a chance for the merchant to give up now and fall back. Sometimes, people take it. Most of the time, they don't.

The lizard is among the latter.

He is fast, almost too fast for Usagi to dodge. His tail is a whip that he wields with expertise, and the samurai can barely jump back in time to avoid having his head smashed in. His hands fly to his left side as soon as he is back on his feet. The silken sound of metal leaving its sheath rings clear across the plaza, and for a moment, it is almost as if time itself has stopped to take a deep breath. Yagi no Eda in hand, Usagi readies himself. Exhales. And strikes.

His master has taught him many things over the years, all of which have proven true and most of which have saved his life more than once. Usagi is wielding his blade as an extension of his arm, and in turn, the spirit of the willow that has lent his swords its name aids him. Oh, the lizard is fast, a formidable opponent for a mere merchant (which, Usagi is starting to suspect, he isn't). But Usagi is faster. After the first narrow dodge the fight is fast and brutal but not for one second out of his control. It feels very long, in this strange place between moments where every movement is so carefully calculated and exercised; it is over after mere seconds.

The merchant flees, spittle flying as he cusses all the way down the nearest alleyway. The people part when he approaches, and Usagi does not pursue him. He has drawn enough attention to himself already, here in this strange land between the bare cliff tops. The elderly man is back on his feet, collecting sweet potatoes into his basket as if nothing happened at all, and after a moment Usagi sheathes his sword and joins him.

They both work in silence until the last of the vegetables has found its way back into the basket, and only then does Usagi look up and exchange a glance with its owner. The rat is limping slightly but appears otherwise unharmed. In fact, he seems to be in exceptionally high spirits.

"Well, young man," he says with a smile when their eyes meet. "I believe I owe you my life."

He bows, a gesture Usagi returns with a smile.

"There is no need to thank me," he says. "I only did what everyone would have done."

The old man smiles back at him. He looks kind, the type of old man that Usagi can easily imagine as someone's grandfather, as sitting by the fire while recalling the old days. Yet something about him puts Usagi on edge, even though he cannot put a finger on why that would be so. The man appears small and fragile, relying on a cane for support now that he is standing again, and yet – he reminds Usagi of his sensei Katsuichi in the way he moves, the way his eyes look out at the world. It's unsettling. It's also very alluring. Usagi suddenly finds himself wondering if his help in resolving the conflict was at all necessary.

But he has no time to pursue the matter further. Now that the adrenaline is leaving his system he is left with an empty stomach and a light head. What little money he owned is gone after the week spent in this town, and the glances cast at them from the dispersing crowd make it abundantly clear that he has overstayed his welcome.

The old man, meanwhile, is still smiling.

"All the same, young samurai, there must be something I can do to repay you. Perhaps an invitation for dinner?"

Usagi has half a mind to protest, but truth be told, he _is _hungry. Hungry and poor, as is so often the case. Why not? a growing part of him insists. Where is the problem in accepting some food in return for a good deed well done? The problem is that there are people poorer than him and hungrier than him, of course. The problem is also his pride. Katsuichi-sensei would frown at that, though. He doesn't think much of pride over sustenance.

"It would be my pleasure," the rat insists. "If it makes you feel any better, you may help me carry my purchases."

Usagi sighs once, very softly. But he knows when he is defeated.

"Thank you," he says.

"Do not thank me yet, young samurai," the old man says. "Whoever knows what is going to happen next?"

If that is some sort of warning, Usagi is not in the mood to examine it any more closely. "Please," he simply says. "My name is Miyamoto Usagi."

"Splinter Yoshi," is the reply. "Well, it is nice meeting you, Miyamoto-san. I know a lovely restaurant down by the docks. This way."

Again something about his tone of voice resonates within Usagi like a warning. Again he squashes it. There will be food, after all, and then he will be on his way again. Whatever fate brings his way will surely happen whether he is fed or not. He'd rather be the former. So he files the whole experience away under 'examine later' and follows Splinter Yoshi down the street, away from the stares and the whispers.


	3. Chapter 2

**Warnings:** _Eventual LeoUsagi (katanashipping). Edo!Japan!AU set in the Usagi Yojimbo Comicverse. I am by no means an expert, I just know how to use google. Later chapters will turn towards darker themes._

**Notes:** _I'm sorry this was late. Work and packing got in the way. The next update will hopefully be on schedule next Sunday._

All chapters will come with individual warnings. If you need to skip one, drop me a message and I'll send you a K+ summary. Should you have any questions, feel free to contact me.

**Chapter Summary:** _Considering it's been not half a day since his last fight, one would think Usagi knows better than to run in the direction of the noise. One would think wrong.  
_

* * *

**THE NORTHERN KINGDOM:  
USAGI YOJIMBO**

* * *

**CHAPTER TWO**

* * *

The 'restaurant' of Splinter Yoshi's choosing turns out to be an old inn so close to the water that the wooden front has been bleached almost white. It is small, the tables and chairs crowding despite the lack of customers. It is also spotless. Usagi is positively surprised. The innkeepers - a lizard couple so old that their scales have become as clouded as their eyes - appear to recognize Splinter, if their smiles are anything to go by. The wife - at least Usagi suspects it's the wife, going by the flower-adorned kimono she is wearing - leads them to a small booth on the far side of the room.

"What can I bring the honorable customers?" she says.

Splinter doesn't even bother to pick up the menu. "The usual," he says. "For me and my guest."

"Of course." She bows and leaves, her long tail swishing behind her as she goes. She disappears through a curtain in the back of the room. The scent of fresh soup wafts over to their table, and Usagi's stomach growls in response.

The basket is not heavy for his standards. Still Usagi is glad to be able to put it down. He still can't shake the feeling that he has gotten himself into something larger than a bowl of noodles, and his hunches are usually right. Splinter, however, seems completely oblivious to his suspicion. The old rat sits down on one of the cushions, his walking stick in his lap, and staples his fingers. After a moment Usagi joins him, though he makes sure he can see the door.

Apparently he is not as inconspicuous as he had hoped. "Is something the matter, Miyamoto-san?"

"No," Usagi replies quickly and tears his eyes from the door. "Nothing. A simple case of road paranoia."

"And you are suspicious of what?"

"Wondering, rather." Usagi smiles a careful, guarded smile, his eyes never leaving Splinter's face. "I am simply unsure why you would invite me here."

"You think I have ulterior motives," Splinter muses. When Usagi ducks his head, embarrassed, he shakes his head. "And you are right. In fact, I have to admit I brought you here for a reason. That reason is... Curiosity."

Usagi, who had been prepared for many things but not this, starts. "I'm afraid I still don't understand."

"Allow me to be more direct," Splinter says. "Please tell me, Miyamoto-san - what brings a man such as you out here to the northern shores of Honshu?"

"That is all?" Usagi shrugs. "You must forgive me, Splinter-san, for I can't give you a clear answer to that. Nothing brought me out here but my own feet and a whim. I needed to get away from the old roads for a while... So I suppose you could say that the answer to your curiosity is simply my own."

"Is that so."

Splinter does not look convinced, which would annoy Usagi more if he weren't waiting for free food. As the situation stands he decides to let it slide in the name of goodwill. His eyes scan the room for another moment, the old habit still unshaken, except when he turns back to the table Splinter is still watching him. Being the subject of such scrutiny makes Usagi more than uncomfortable, and he can tell that it shows. This time it is the old man's turn to avert his eyes.

"Forgive my rudeness, Miyamoto-san," he says. "It is hard for me to comprehend that your _tono*_ would send out a formidable warrior such as you for no good reason."

He must be referring to the _mon**_ that still adorns Usagi's clothes. Another old habit, nothing more. Usagi had always assumed that people would _know _when they saw it, but apparently news doesn't travel as fast this high north, or perhaps people here simply don't care for the daimyos of the south. Either way, he barely refrains from touching the embroidery that rests just above his heart.

"With all due respect, I can't see my lord mind very much. Seeing as he has been dead for many years."

Splinter's ears flatten against his head. So he really didn't know. "I am sorry," he says.

"Do not worry," Usagi says quickly, though the tension in his shoulders betrays him. "Wandering the _musha shugyō*** _has taught me many things. I regret nothing."

What a blatant lie. But if Splinter can tell, he doesn't show it.

Luckily, their food arrives soon after that, and the tension is broken when the scent of warm, fresh ramen washes over them. Usagi's mood is instantly better. He is pleasantly surprised to find that they did not hold the meat, and he is more than ready to forgive any faux pas in the conversation in favour of finally getting some food inside him. The noodles are delicious, hot and salty with a tang of herbs he is not familiar with. He hadn't even realized how ravenous he was; as it is, he has a hard time to eat slowly in the presence of the old man.

The conversation is slow, easy now that food has arrived. They stick to safe themes. The weather in this little town, the upcoming harvest, a comparison of ramen dishes eaten on their respective travels. (These are exceptionally good, but the best ones Usagi has ever had are made by a small street vendor in Edo. Splinter is not surprised.) Of course, that brings Usagi back to the encounter with the red-scaled lizard earlier. It is a bit foolish to ask, perhaps, since Splinter has not brought it up himself. But curiosity is contagious.

"If I may ask, Splinter-san, what did that merchant want from you?"

Splinter puts his chopsticks down on the table. For a moment Usagi is afraid he has offended his conversational partner, but then he realizes the man's bowl is empty.

"Merchant?" Splinter says. "Oh, you must mean Draco. He is not a merchant, though he likes to pretend otherwise. I'm afraid this is not the first time we had a... misunderstanding like that."

"It did not look like a mere misunderstanding to me," Usagi says, because he never knows when to quit.

Splinter's smile is strangely lopsided. "Yes. I believe you may be right."

He does not say any more, and Usagi does not pursue the matter further. They do not speak again until Usagi has finished his food as well and Splinter pays. When they leave the establishment the wind has picked up, carrying a chilly breeze in from the sea along with a spray of salt water. A few larger ships are staying in the port, but Usagi decides against paying them a closer look. He has spent too much time here already. Now that he is no longer hungry it is time for him to go back south, where his kind belongs.

So he leaves Splinter and his basket by the docks after the old man assures him that no further harm will befall him. When he gets back to the main city the streets are mostly deserted. He hadn't realized how late it had become, but most of the street vendors have already packed up and the stalls of the local merchants are all but abandoned. Although the sun is far from setting Usagi quickens his steps. If he wants to make it out of the city and to the next settlement before nightfall, he needs to hurry.

That is when he hears the crying.

And oh, he should know better by now, he really should. If anything, his earlier encounter with the hot-headed not-merchant is proof. Yet all by themselves his feet carry him towards the sound. It's soft, like someone is trying very hard to stop, and interspersed with small hiccups. Usagi curses his hearing. He blesses his hearing. Then he decides to reserve all judgment until he knows what he is getting himself into _mere minutes after bidding Splinter-san goodbye. _

He finally locates the source of the crying as a narrow alleyway branching off the main street. The perfect place for a trap. But the streets and rooftops are empty when he checks them. So he takes heart and enters the alley.

It's a bit dimmer in here, between the buildings, but Usagi has no trouble spotting the source of the sobbing. It's a small child wrapped up in dark clothing. The skin is covered in tiny, dark, blue-green scales, but the head and face are too round to be of lizard-kin. Something about this child is different. As blue eyes fixate on him, Usagi kneels down and raises his hands, careful not to scare the other. That is when he finally understands that the child's round back is not a hunch but a _shell, _dark and smooth beneath the fabric.

_Kame, _he thinks with a jolt of surprise.

"Hello there," he says. "Are you all right?"

The child jumps, eyes swollen but sharp. Usagi notes with interest that its - for lack of a clear sex characteristic he can determine - hands come up in a fighting stance.

"Who are you?"

A little boy, then, judging by the voice. Usagi keeps his hands up. "My name is Usagi," he says. "And who might you be?"

The child is still sniffling, his arms trembling. He is still chubby around the cheeks. If _kame _biology works anything like his own, Usagi would estimate his age around no more than six years. And the boy's initial defiance is already crumbling.

"Mi-Michelangelo," he mutters.

"That is a very nice name," Usagi says. He is not even going to try to repeat that.

"Your ears look funny," the child allows in return.

"Gee. Charming." Usagi grins. "Thank you. Say, Michi-chan, what are you doing here all alone?"

If the boy minds the nickname, he is good at hiding it. Instead he somehow manages to make his next sniffle sound, well, _snotty_. "Isn't it obvious? I got lost."

"Lost." Usagi's brow furrows. "I wasn't aware there were kame in the area."

"Well I didn't know there were... whatever you are."

A rude boy with a bad temper and more snark than is good for him. Great. Like Usagi doesn't have anything better to do right now than getting sassed by small children. Granted, the child is probably scared above all else. Usagi looks at his wide blue eyes, rimmed red with shed tears, and swallows back any comments that come to mind.

"All right, then," he says. "Since we make such an unlikely pair, I might as well take you home, provided you can promise to behave yourself."

Immediately, all the dismissive behavior just... disappears. The child stumbles forward, small hands clutching at the hem of his haori (three fingers, Usagi notes), the thin line of his mouth quivering.

"Really? Will you do that, Mister Usagi?"

"Of course," Usagi says. _Children. _Appearances aside, this boy reminds him of Jotaro a lot. How could he leave someone so small and so scared alone in a city where people like that Draco roam freely? "If you can tell me where that is."

"Easy-peasy." A small hand closes around his when he gets to his feet, the boy so close that the rim of his shell is digging into Usagi's leg once he is standing. "You just follow the road from the water all the way up the hill. Can't miss it. It's real big."

"Real big, huh." Usagi sticks his head out of the alley, turns left and right, but nobody is on the streets except for late shoppers and workers getting home. Satisfied, he steps out, pulling the boy after him. Then he stops again. "Wait. Up the hill from the water? But that's right here."

"Not _this _hill!" The boy actually rolls his eyes. "The one on the other side, silly!"

And finally, _finally, _all the pieces click into place. Silly, silly rabbit. There are no kame people on Honshu. The land of the kame is on Hokkaido. On the other side of the strait.

"Ah," he says faintly.

"You promised."

When Usagi looks down, the boy's mouth is set, his eyes solemn. He still has the samurai's sleeve in a vice grip, even as Usagi's own fingers curl into loose fists. An automatic reaction, anticipation of danger. He did promise. It would be dishonorable to go back on his word. But Hokkaido! To leave Honshu is as unthinkable as it is to give up breathing. He simply can't. And even if he wanted to, he doesn't have the money to pay for the journey any more.

"I'm sorry," he says helplessly, "but I don't-"

"You _promised!" _The boy wails, fresh tears springing to his eyes. "Please, I don't know how to get back, I just - I just wanted to see what it was like here, so I snuck out without telling anyone, and it was so exciting at first but then I lost track of time and the boat was gone and I'm _scared and I want my BROTHERS-_"

"Alright! Alright, calm down!"

Usagi sinks to his knees again and places a hand on the boy's shoulder. "If you are from Hokkaido, I will find a way to get you back home. All right? Let's go back to the port. Maybe someone there will recognize you. It will be okay, Michi-chan, I promise you that." Another promise. Him and his big mouth. But he can't possibly abandon a child that has explicitly asked for his help.

_Screw this, _he thinks and holds out his hand again.

"Come on. Let's get you home."

* * *

* _tono: _A lord.  
_** mon: _A clan crest.  
_*** musha shugyō_: The warrior's pilgrimage. Usagi has been wandering ever since he lost his lord.


	4. Chapter 3

**Warnings:** _Eventual LeoUsagi (katanashipping). Edo!Japan!AU set in the Usagi Yojimbo Comicverse. I am by no means an expert, I just know how to use google. Later chapters will turn towards darker themes._

_All chapters will come with individual warnings. If you need to skip one, drop me a message and I'll send you a K+ summary. Should you have any questions, feel free to contact me. That said, nothing particularly noteworthy in this one._

**Notes/Disclaimer:** _Looks like I made it in time! Also, many thanks to the amazing many-wings for beta-reading the last chapters. It sure has its advantages, getting your partner into the same ships. _

_I hereby announce that I have no idea how long it would take a fishing boat to cross the strait, even at its most narrow point. Let's pretend for the sake of the story that it can be done in a few hours. Let's also pretend that I correctly interpreted the symbol on google maps as the city Omu, and that Omu already existed in 1603. If any of you are Japanese or know enough about Japanese history to correct me, I'd be much obliged. If not, thanks for pretending with me._

_To those of you who asked – ages and relationships will be revealed in the next chapters. Four to six is where it's at. Just hang in there with me._

**Chapter Summary:** _At least Michi-chan was not lying when he said "big". _

* * *

**THE NORTHERN KINGDOM:  
USAGI YOJIMBO**

* * *

**CHAPTER THREE**

* * *

Michelangelo stays glued to Usagi's side the whole way down to the ports, to the point where the samurai nearly trips over him more than once. He breathes a sigh of relief when the water finally comes back into view. His steps quicken on their own accord, and only Michelangelo's surprised whine guilts him into slowing down again enough for the young kame to keep up with him. It should leave him feeling worse than it does.

The large vessels that were moored here earlier are gone now. Usagi can see their silhouettes far out on the strait, large black dots that are getting smaller by the second. Michelangelo is following his gaze, and his tiny hand is squeezing Usagi's with surprising force when he spots the flare of a white sail in the sun.

"It's alright, Michi-chan," Usagi says. He doesn't feel half as confident as he hopes he sounds. It seems to do the trick though, because Michelangelo loosens his grip enough that feeling returns to Usagi's fingers. He follows it up with an encouraging smile. "Come on, let's ask around. I'm sure someone can help us."

Despite his efforts the best he can get out of the boy is a subdued nod. Michelangelo's eyes never leave the water. The distance is enough to blot out all but the softest silhouettes of Hokkaido's mountains, so Usagi is scanning this shore of the strait instead. Most inns and pubs here are already brightly lit despite the early afternoon hours, but that is not what he is looking for. He is searching the rows of boats for life.

_Come on, _he silently prays to the gods, _this little boy needs his home, please grant us just one stroke of luck…_

Voices ahead.

"There's someone there," Usagi says. He can feel Michelangelo's blue eyes snap up to his face, a sudden fear evident in the boy's features. "It's fishermen," he adds quickly, wondering what could have scared the boy so much. "I'm sure they will be able to help us."

And oh, they are not just fishermen, he realizes when they come closer. They are _kame_ fishermen. There are five of them on the boat, reeling in their nets and ropes. In the light of the afternoon sun their exposed upper bodies reveal honey- and sand-colored plastron plates, scratched and weathered like their skin is. The ship itself, fittingly named _Nanami, _is large for a fishing vessel. Usagi does not know enough about boats to be certain, but he supposes it would be easier to withstand the tides like this. In any case it holds more than enough room for a little boy. Shouts fly back and forth across the deck as they approach. It is obvious that they are preparing to leave soon. Again, Usagi quickens his steps, all but dragging the boy after him until they come to a halt in front of the landing.

"Ahoy!" he calls out.

He can't see the deck from this angle, but he can hear shuffling, and after a few moments a green head pops up over the railing. Usagi can feel the fisherman's dark eyes on him like a weight, taking in his scruffy clothes, the _daisho*_ in his belt. Already he can tell that this is going to be difficult. And soon enough, when the man speaks, his gruff voice is heavy with suspicion.

"What'cha want, ronin?"

Usagi is prepared to retaliate in kind, perhaps even to justify himself. But then the fisherman's dark eyes detect Michelangelo, and instantly, his entire demeanor softens. "And who've ye got there?"

Relief washes over Usagi like a wave. "This is Michi-chan," he calls out when it becomes evident that the boy is too scared to answer. "I'm afraid he has gotten himself a bit lost! He wants to get back to his family on Hokkaido! Can you help?"

"That so, eh?" The man considers this for a moment. A quick glance down tells Usagi that Michelangelo is using his large, blue eyes to the best of his ability, even from behind his trouser leg. However, before the fisher can say anything more another head pops up next to his.

"Who're ye talking to? We're running late here, Yutaka…"

The woman trails off when she spots Usagi and Michelangelo. At that point the boy is digging his fingers into Usagi's hakama enough to hurt. The woman does not seem perturbed by his behavior in the least; on the contrary, her entire being seems to light up when she sees him, and she even gives a little wave.

"Well, ahoy there, young man! What brings a darling like you out to this place?"

"I want to get home!" Michelangelo calls back.

Usagi can't say he likes the way the couple's faces turn stony when they look at him now. "And does that man keep you?" the woman demands.

Usagi bristles. "What are you—"

"He's taking me home!" Michelangelo clarifies before he can say any more. Considering his position, Usagi supposes he should be thankful. And indeed the woman's face brightens immediately.

"My, what a nice friend you have found yourself there! Yutaka, darling, be a dear and move those boxes for our passengers…"

Immediately, Usagi sobers up. Evidently these people are working under the wrong assumptions. "Now, wait just a minute—"

"You can come up," the woman continues as if he hadn't spoken. "Just be careful you don't trip. The water here's not at all clean, shame on them."

She does not clarify who exactly is to blame for the embarrassing state of the sea water, and Usagi has no desire to ask. Her husband has disappeared, presumably to move something or other. Next to Usagi, Michelangelo is already inching closer to the landing. He keeps his hand in a surprisingly strong grip. It seems that if Usagi is to voice any objections he better do it fast.

Again, the woman beats him to it. As she leans over the railing of the ship her eyes are narrowed, not in suspicion this time but in worry. "You alright there, sweetheart?"

What an unexpected turn of events. "Uh," Usagi stammers, "I'm afraid I wasn't – I am not prepared for a journey like this, you see—"

"Ah." Understanding dawns on her face. "Hang on there." She disappears for a moment, only to reappear on top of the landing. As she comes closer Usagi can see that something is etched into the upper plates of her plastron. An anchor, and the name of her ship. How fitting for a sailor. She stops just short of him, and he hurries to return his focus to her face, but luckily her attention is on the boy

"Now, Michi-chan, it is such a pleasure to meet you! Listen, why don't you go on ahead and find yourself a nice spot on the ship. We might be lucky and see some dolphins on the way over! Won't that be nice?"

"Yes! Can I, can I?"

"Of course," Usagi mutters faintly. They both look after the boy until he has bounced up the landing and disappeared on deck. Usagi picks up the delight in his voice even if the exact words are lost to the wind. When the woman turns back to him, however, her face is serious.

"I'm afraid I didn't catch your name there, sweetheart."

"Usagi. Miyamoto Usagi."

"And me's Satsuki. Well, Usagi-san, you might need to explain yourself to me here."

"There isn't much to explain." Usagi rubs his neck. "I found him up near the markets. He said he got lost. I promised to take him home, but that was before I knew where that was. And now… I'll be honest with you, Satsuki-san. I don't have any money to pay for the journey. Neither there nor back."

"I see," she says. "And don't you think Michi-chan's family will help you out."

Usagi thinks of the boy, of the black rags he's wearing, and shakes his head. "I'm not counting on it," he says, honestly.

Satsuki shakes her head. "And still you are going to do it. Take him home."

Usagi sighs, defeated. "Yes," he says. "Well. Someone has to."

He almost jumps when Satsuki claps him on the back. His hand is already on his weapon when he sees her grin, and he barely stops himself in time. Luckily she appears completely oblivious to his surprise.

"Well, that's settled then! I like you, Usagi-san. We'll take you there, and tell you what, when you're all finished with business on Hokkaido we'll even bring you back here. Free o' charge. How's that sound to you?"

Usagi starts. "I – That sounds marvelous, Satsuki-san. I am in your debt."

She waves his words aside. "Fiddle-faddle! You're tryin' to do a good thing, we ain't gonna stop you. Now, hop on board."

When Usagi follows her onto the ship, he is so grateful he doesn't even fully realize what he's agreed to do until the houses of Oma have already disappeared from view.

Apparently there really are dolphins in the strait. At least that's what he can gather from Michelangelo's incessant babbling later, when he has solid ground under his feet again and no longer feels like he's dying.

The sun has set while they were out on open water, and the cool night air brings some relief to his lurching stomach at last. He has been on ships before, plenty of them in all sizes, but apparently the unique tides of the strait make a difference in turbulence that he didn't anticipate. Michelangelo appears entirely unbothered, if not downright delighted, by the whole ordeal. He keeps on talking despite the fact that Usagi is evidently in no position to listen properly, much less reply. Eventually Satsuki takes pity on him and lures the child away to look at the fish they caught earlier that day. Michelangelo is only too happy to follow back onto the boat, and at last some quiet returns to the docks.

Yutaka, who turns out to be not only Satsuki's husband but also the captain of the _Nanami_, sits down heavily next to where Usagi is still holding his head in his hands. Usagi prays to whoever is listening that there will be no talking required on his part. (He would be ashamed of such rude thinking, if he weren't already occupied with feeling sick.)

"Me woman tells me you're gonna take Michi-chan home."

He sounds relieved, which is nice. In fact, the whole crew has been nothing but kind to them ever since they came on board the _Nanami. _Usagi supposes he should thank them. And he will, as soon as he can be sure he won't throw up on them (again) in the process.

For now, short sentences will have to do. "Yeah," he breathes. "That's – the plan."

Yutaka's bellowing laughter sends heat to his cheeks. "You really don't like them open waters, do you?"

"You could say that," Usagi mutters into his knees.

"All the more remarkable you're doing this."

Is there suspicion in the man's voice? Usagi forces himself to look up, but Yutaka's face seems as open as it has been all evening, even with the little light available. He must be imagining things.

"Michi-chan's just a child," he says. "Everyone…"

"No," Yutaka says. _States_. His initial mirth has disappeared from his voice. "Not everyone. Someone like you, you know that better than most."

Usagi finds that he has no reply.

They sit in silence for a while. The fresh, salty breeze manages to clear Usagi's head enough that he can sit up straighter. Behind him he can hear Michelangelo recall the journey to Satsuki, then her answering laugh. Usagi can't help but admire the way she has with the child, the way she seems to never tire of the repetitions. He wonders whether they have children of their own. But in the end that is none of his business.

"We'll go back out in the morning," Yutaka says eventually. "Reach Oma on Honshu by noon. You're welcome to come back with us then, if you want."

This time, Usagi manages a smile. "I'll think about it," he says.

Yutaka's answering bellow is loud enough to make him flinch. "Yeah, think about it, ronin. See if your stomach can take it. And if it can't just yet… We'll be back here next morning, and after. Whenever you need."

"Thank you," Usagi says, and means it.

"Nah, don't mention it. You're a good guy, Usagi-san. Don't see many of 'em around here anymore, so us good men have to stick together, right?"

He winks, and this time it is on Usagi to laugh.

"Right," he says. "Remind me to buy my fellow good men a sake when my purse allows it."

"I won't forget that one!"

They share a grin, white flashes of teeth in the moonlit dark. The shadows are long now, long and black beneath the planks. But the sailors still have work to do. So as soon as Usagi feels like he can trust himself not to immediately keel over, he gets to his feet.

"Well, we'll be on our way," he says, loud enough for Michelangelo and Satsuki to hear him. Sure enough, the boy is back by his side in moments.

"Are we going home now, Usagi?"

"Of course." Usagi smiles down at him. "Did you say goodbye to everyone?"

"Not yet. Goodbye!" Michelangelo lets go of his hand long enough to wave with both his tiny arms. Much to his delight the whole crew waves back. "Goodbye! Goodbye! Can we go now, Usagi? I'm really tired."

"Yes, yes, we're leaving." Usagi bows to Satsuki and Yutaka. "Thank you for all the help. We appreciate it."

"Come visit us," Satsuki says. "Both of you."

Usagi smiles. "Till the next time."

Next to him, Michelangelo manages the biggest yawn Usagi has ever seen on someone so small. He is convinced that half of it is simple theatrics until Michelangelo rubs his eyes and half-falls against him.

"Tired," he mutters again. Yawns, even wider than before. "Can you carry me, Usagi? Please?"

Usagi sighs. He probably shouldn't, but then again they will be considerably faster if he doesn't have to drag the child along behind him. "Come on, then," he says and hoists Michelangelo up to rest against his shoulder. The boy is heavy compared to what he is used to from his travels with Jotaro, but his shell makes up for its additional weight by providing a nice grabbing point for Usagi's hands. So, heavy, yes, but not too heavy to manage.

"Children," he hears Satsuki whisper affectionately as he walks away from the port. Whatever follows after is already lost to the wind.

The waterfront here consists merely of a few huts, none of which seem of any interest to the drowsy Michelangelo. Between and behind them a paved path leads further up the hill. Remembering Michelangelo's words, Usagi follows it. The area is steep here, and the dark makes it impossible to see more than a few yards ahead, but he manages to make it all the way to the top before he has to stop to catch his breath.

Then he looks up.

Michelangelo must have felt the sharp intake of breath, because he wakes up enough to glance over his shoulder.

"Told you you can't miss it," he murmurs.

"Well," Usagi says faintly, "you were not _wrong_."

Not far down the hill the street grows broader, wider, until it eventually ends in a massive metal gate. Stone walls, grey in the moonlight, throw ink-black shadows on the landscape. Behind them two large towers spiral up into the star-lit sky.

Usagi has never left Honshu before, but he knows enough about politics to recognize the Green Lotus Castle even in the dark.

Of course that does not have to mean anything. When Michelangelo says 'home' he could mean any part of that construction. The stables, perhaps, or the gatekeeper's houses where they nestle against the walls. But Usagi has lived too long to be able to delusion himself like that. It is never that easy.

"Michi-chan," he says, "can you tell me your last name?"

"Sure." Michelangelo nestles more comfortably into the crook of his neck. "It's Hamato. Is that important?"

Instinctively, Usagi grips his shell more tightly. His ears are as flattened back against his head as his topknot allows when he replies.

"You know, I have a feeling we are going to find out."

* * *

_* daisho: A katana and a shorter wakizashi sword together form a daisho. The weapon combination is typically reserved for samurai._


	5. Chapter 4

**Warnings: **_Eventual Leo/Usagi. Edo!Japan!AU. Later chapters will turn darker; you will see the first tendrils of it in this chapter. All chapters will come with individual warnings. If you need to skip one, send me a PM and I'll give you a chapter summary minus your triggers._

**Notes/Disclaimer:** _I am so sorry, guys. All I can say is that apparently moving to another country took up more of my time and focus than I originally thought it would. What a big surprise. :D I hope you've all been well and I can go back to a weekly update schedule. Didn't want to wait for Sunday with this one. Switch of POVs in the middle of the chapter._**  
**

**Chapter Summary:** Usagi POV: _That is not the welcome Usagi expected, if he had expected a welcome at all. _Raphael POV: _Considering all that is happening right now, the stranger with the long ears is really the least of his concerns._

* * *

**THE NORTHERN KINGDOM:  
USAGI YOJIMBO**

* * *

**CHAPTER FOUR**

* * *

It is late now, late enough that the windows of the farming huts on the hills around them have gone dark. Late enough that even Usagi is starting to feel uncomfortable in the unrelenting blackness. Still he stumbles on along the street's protruding cobbles while Michelangelo sleeps on in his arms. In front of them the Green Lotus Castle is but a dark silhouette against the starry night sky. Here, too the lights in most windows have long since disappeared. But Usagi walks on. Even when Michelangelo's weight turns into a burden rather than a comfort, Usagi walks on.

It feels like a long time before the metal gates of the castle entrance come back into full view. The walls are dark, no spot of light indicating the presence of guards, but two torches are lit next to the gates. Their gleam is reflected by the twisted spikes that adorn it, turning it into something unwelcoming, almost vicious. A maw, half-opened, teeth bared and ready to swallow them both whole. Usagi shakes his head, and when he looks again, all he can see is bent metal and rust.

Still, despite his fatigue he finds himself slowing down until he finally comes to a stop. He is still around a hundred jo* away from the gates, yet he can't seem to bring himself to get any closer. Maybe it's the pressing blackness that the two lonely torches can't even begin to disperse. The castle just does not look very inhabited.

Michelangelo stirs in his arms, and his sleepy face peeks out of Usagi's clothes. He shivers in the cool breeze. "Are we there yet?"

"Almost, Michi-chan," Usagi says. "I mean to say – Hamato-tono?"

"I like Michi. You can call me Michi if you want."

Usagi would rather keep his head attached to his shoulders than indulge in nicknames for a mighty lord's son, but he keeps his thoughts to himself. Michelangelo yawns widely. If he can tell what Usagi is thinking, he doesn't show it.

"Why have we stopped?"

Before Usagi can think of any reply that would justify his actions, a loud screech echoes through the darkness. He flinches, arms tightening reflexively around Michelangelo despite the boy's protests. Up ahead, he can make out just enough to see that the castle gates have opened wide enough to allow a figure to exit. A bad feeling overcomes Usagi when the figure, without any hesitation, starts striding in their direction.

"I'm afraid I need to put you down for a moment," Usagi says quietly.

He can feel Michelangelo turn in his arms. "What happened? I can't see anything."

"Someone is coming."

Without further discussion he bends down and sets the boy down. The stranger is closer now; in the pale light provided by the moon, Usagi can make out the glint of metal on their belt, the bulk of muscle beneath their cloak. Automatically, he falls into a defensive position. He is about to reach for his swords when he hears Michelangelo sigh behind him.

"Oh no."

Usagi half turns, eyes never leaving the approaching figure. "A friend of yours?"

"Something like that," Michelangelo says meekly, but he steps forward nonetheless. "Hello, Raphie."

The figure stops. They are now close enough that Usagi can make out the telltale signs of kame physiology, the roundness of their features and their back evident despite the lack of light. Eyes the color of honey find his own, and despite himself, a shiver crawls up Usagi's spine. He can't help but feel relieved when the stranger's gaze trails down to the boy.

"So," a dark voice says, "you have decided to come back after all."

"Yes," Michelangelo whispers.

"Did you have fun?"

Michelangelo doesn't reply, and after a moment, the stranger looks up again.

"You," he says, and now a hint of anger creeps into his voice. "Who are you?"

Michelangelo pipes up before Usagi has the chance. "That is –"

"I didn't ask you."

The boy crumbles visibly but stops, and suddenly the silence seems very heavy. Usagi straightens up, his own voice hard and flat when he answers.

"My name is Miyamoto Usagi. I was asked to take Michelangelo home." His tongue stumbles over the unfamiliar name and its sharp edges, and the stranger's lip curls back in a snarl.

"Who asked you to?"

"He did it himself."

"Oh, did he now."

"I did, though," Michelangelo whispers. Both men find their eyes drawn to the smaller figure between them. To his shock, Usagi discovers the boy's eyes brimming with tears, and the stranger stiffens as well. Silence falls between them again, until finally, a sigh escapes the man's lips and he turns away.

"Right. Come on in then. 's cold out here."

"I'm sorry," Usagi says, not moving. "I'm afraid I haven't caught your name."

"I didn't say it," the man says. "It don't concern you, anyway."

Before Usagi can say any more, he has turned away from them both and started walking towards the gates again. His steps ring heavy against the cobbles, proof of the badly concealed anger that was already evident in his voice. For a moment, Usagi considers staying behind. It is clear that he is not welcome here, and truth be told, he does not trust the stranger farther than he could throw him, which is probably not very far in the first place. But then Michelangelo looks back at him, and the silent plea on his face is enough to get Usagi moving again. Neither of them speaks, and they do not stop until they reach the gates.

At first Usagi assumes the stranger is talking to the guards, but the night remains silent except for the grating of metal against metal. Usagi watches in stunned silence as the man produces a key ring out of his pocket and proceeds to pry the large gates open.

"Come on, hurry it up! I ain't got all night!"

Both Michelangelo and Usagi hurry to follow the order. The courtyard they enter is almost purely black, the little light that the moon offered them outside here blocked by the towers that are looming above them. Only a rustle in the breeze identifies the moving shadows around them as trees. Usagi flinches when he hears the metal gates fall shut behind them, followed by the sound of a key turning in the lock.

"Guards' quarters are over there on the left. Find a room you like, it's yours for the night. I expect you gone by morning. Now excuse us. We gotta discuss some urgent matters."

With that, the stranger walks past Usagi and shoves Michelangelo in the direction of the main building. Neither of them look back again. Usagi can't help but feel like he fell for a very elaborate joke. Around him, the trees bend down low to escape the wind that is growing stronger now, whistling through the cracks in the stone. With the lack of other options, Usagi finds his feet turn to the left, where the man said the guards' quarters would be. How comforting to know there are indeed guards in this place; how disconcerting that he is expected to walk in on them until he can find an empty room. Hokkaido is truly worlds apart from Honshu.

Still, it will be preferable to find a bed than to sleep on the ground again. And it is not like he can leave now if he wanted to, with the gates locked and the kame gone. So, albeit with a sigh, Usagi makes his way to the western walls of the Green Lotus Castle in search of a doorway.

* * *

"I got him," Raphael says by way of greeting as he pulls the screen doors open and pushes Michelangelo into the room beyond. "You were right. About the stranger, too."

"Of course I was."

Donatello is seated by the open window on the far side of the room. A glass lantern next to him throws its flickering light on a table that is covered in scrolls. He does not even look up from his work until Michelangelo stomps over to him and places his small hands on his brother's fresh notes, smudging the ink.

"You told on me!"

"Raphael was worried about you," Donatello says mildly. "You really shouldn't take off on your own like that."

Michelangelo pauses. "Really?"

"Of course. It is dangerous."

"No, I mean – you were worried?"

Raphael's mouth thins, but he doesn't say anything, just closes the door and takes a seat on the bed. Donatello, too, hesitates. A single drop of ink drips from the brush in his hands onto the back of Michelangelo's hand, and the boy flinches back and wipes it on his clothes.

"Don't do that. You will ruin the fabric." Donatello takes a look at the black scraps that he is wearing and sighs. "Or, well. Raph…"

Whatever he is trying to say next is lost when the doors open again and Leonardo steps in. He stops when he finds the room occupied. Both Raphael and Donatello still at once, and Raphael's eyes narrow when he takes in his oldest brother's appearance. Dark circles under his eyes. Mouth slack. Still wearing yesterday's clothes. He finds the corners of his own mouth turn down in distaste. No, not distaste, but equally sour.

Leonardo's dark eyes find Raphael's light ones for just a moment before they shy away. Luckily for them, Michelangelo appears unperturbed by the change in atmosphere, because he all but throws himself at the newcomer.

"Leo!"

"Hey there, little one." Leonardo's smile is strained but genuine when he kneels down to accept his brother's enthusiastic embrace. "Have you been good today?"

"The goodest," Michelangelo confirms readily. Raphael can't help but marvel at his ability to keep a straight face during such a bold lie. "Wasn't I, Raphie?"

"He snuck out again today," Raphael says. He can't stop himself.

"Did he?" Leonardo says, that same slow, tired smile still plastered on his face.

"Made it all the way to the city," Raphael continues. Like he doesn't know better. Like he hasn't learned anything from the past. He can't hear Donatello's voiceless sigh, but he can feel it all the way across the room. It chills him to the bones. And the worst is that he can see Leonardo understands something is wrong. But in the end, all the eldest says is, "Oh?"

"The city on Honshu," Raphael says. He sounds desperate even to his own ears.

Leonardo's eyes travel back to Michelangelo's face. It pains Raphael to watch the way he tilts his face in questioning, the way his frown deepens when he tries. It seems like a long time before he finally answers.

"Honshu," he says.

That is all. Just _Honshu_.

Raphael bites down on his cheeks so hard he tastes blood.

It is Michelangelo who speaks first, who breaks the silence that has settled so heavily around them. "I got my hands dirty," he says and holds them up so Leo can see the ink stains. "Can you go wash my hands with me, Leo?"

"Yes, of course," Leonardo says. And the smile is back on his face, strained, tired, but _there_. He is always smiling for Michelangelo. Sometimes, Raphael can't take it. One of these days he might just snap and do something about it. He isn't sure what. All he knows is that his fists ache.

"Come on, little one. Let's get you cleaned up."

Raphael watches them go in silence. The sound of the wooden lining of the screen door hitting its frame is painfully loud to his ears.

"He is getting worse," Donatello murmurs behind him, and Raphael wants desperately to believe that the chill creeping up his arms comes from the window.

"I didn't know he could get any worse."

"You are a terrible liar."

Raphael clenches his fists, unclenches them again. His throat hurts when he tries to breathe, but he breathes in anyway. He hasn't had tears left for a long time now.

"What are we going to –"

"Tell me about that stranger," Donatello says as if he hadn't spoken.

Raphael swallows against the pain and turns away from the door, towards his older brother. "There isn't much to tell," he says. "I doubt I know anything you don't already. From your… sources." He waves a hand in the vague direction of the scrolls on the table. "Mammal. Rabbit. White fur. A ronin, I think. He'll be gone in the morning."

"What did he think?"

The question finally makes Raphael pause. "What did he – what?"

"What did he think? When you let him in?"

Raphael's brow furrows. "How am I supposed to know? I ain't a mind reader, Donnie." When his brother doesn't reply, only looks at him, he sighs, shrugs. "I – I dunno. I don't think he was impressed." He thinks about that for a moment, really thinks. "He was looking for guards."

"But didn't see any?"

"'Course not. We haven't had guards at the gates for weeks."

Donatello, for what it is worth, looks surprised. "Really? Why?"

Again, all Raphael can do is shrug. "Nothing here to guard, I guess."

"There is Mikey."

"Yeah." Raphael doesn't mean to sound this bitter. "There is Mikey."

_That's why there's me._

After a short pause, Donatello turns back to the table. "I need to finish this," he says. "But I will see what I can do about the guards."

Raphael doesn't bother to reply when he leaves.

* * *

_* a jo (if I am not completely mistaken) = ca. 10 feet. So a hundred jo = 1000 feet._


	6. Chapter 5

**Warnings:** _Depiction of violence. Descriptions of disrepair._

**Notes/Disclaimer:** T_hank you all for your kind reviews over the last week! I'm currently too busy to reply to each of you individually, but please know that you have made me very happy. Sorry this is a day late. Revision took me longer than anticipated.  
_

**Chapter Summary:** _How ironic that when he was asked to stay, he could not leave fast enough; yet now that he has been asked to leave, the castle appears intent on keeping him. Forever.  
_

* * *

**THE NORTHERN KINGDOM:  
USAGI YOJIMBO**

* * *

**CHAPTER FIVE**

* * *

The hallway is dark, untouched by the moonlight outside, but most of all it is silent. A surprisingly large number of screen doors leads away to the left and right. The guards' quarters, no doubt. The wooden frame of the first door creaks under Usagi's hand when he reaches for it, and he hesitates, but no sound can be heard from the other side. Only when he is satisfied that he will likely not walk in on a sleeping samurai does he enter.

He can't see much in here, either. The distorted window shutters can't entirely keep out the moon, but they are not enough to illuminate much beyond the corner of a small table in the corner. The wall is damp beneath his fingertips. On his way to the window he nearly slips on a wet patch on the floor, and he hits his shin on what turns out to be a drawer when he tries to regain his footing. Finally he manages to throw the shutters open and let fresh air into the room. A cloud of dust rises up to greet him, making him sneeze. At least now he can finally see the mattress, a lump of straw in one corner of the room.

_Still better than the floor outside, _Usagi tells himself.

He wakes up with the sun on his face.

For a few blissful moments the last 24 hours are entirely gone from his mind. He is back in his room at the inn, and outside the ocean laps gently against the cliffs. But when he tries to shield himself from the harsh light, the movement is enough to wake him up. And just like that, the illusion shatters. Suddenly the room is very cold and the rustle outside is nothing more than trees in the wind.

He stays still for a while, willing sleep to return. Eventually, though, the deep cracks in the ceiling begin to look threatening. So Usagi rolls over and sits up. It doesn't take long to survey his surroundings now that daylight has returned – the stained drawer that he bruised his shins on a few hours earlier, a matching table in the opposite corner, and the puddle that caused him to slip in the first place, fed by a small but steady rivulet of water from the wall. A shudder creeps down Usagi's spine.

Worst of all, he is still on Hokkaido.

_Time to get out of here._

He is reaching for his swords, placed against the wall next to his head, when he discovers the next unpleasant surprise. His sword arm is sore; when he pulls up his sleeve he finds dark bruises that circle his wrist and arm all the way up to the elbow. A remainder of his quarrel with the merchant, no doubt. It is hard to believe that that, too happened only yesterday.

Judging by how long it takes him to get to his feet and stumble towards the door, he can't have slept for more than a few hours. But one look around is enough to recognize that he will not be able to find peace again in this room. He has spent the night in abandoned farming huts more comfortable. Perhaps the courtyard would have been preferable after all. Alas, there is no use thinking on it too much. Really, he should be more grateful for the offer of shelter. Scolding himself for his own rudeness, Usagi opens the door and peeks out into the hallway. It lies as empty as it was when he first entered it. This time he keeps his hands away from the moist walls as he hurries towards the bright rectangle that at last leads him out into the courtyard.

He stops here, between the overgrown pillars that hold the canopy, to take in the sight before him. For the first time since he woke up, his general unease spikes into something sharper. It feels alarmingly like pity. Try as he might, he can't fight it down.

Because he can _see_ it. Oh, yes, he can. There are the colored pebbles that form intricate patterns beneath his feet. The pillars, stretching high to support the sloped roof. The trees that have been planted in two long rows on either side of the main gate, and the massive walls that surround it all. They were white, long ago. He can tell even now, even through the moss and the weeds and the cracks and the holes.

He can see what it must have been like. Somehow that's worse than the evidence of unchallenged decay itself.

Of course, everything is also completely deserted. If there are indeed people living in these buildings they are either hiding well or still fast asleep. Despite the rust that flakes off them in the morning breeze, the iron gates seem sturdy; Usagi doubts that he could open them by force even if he tried. And yes, it is true that he can see blue skies through the cracks in the castle walls and meadows through holes the size of a man. But to leave by such means is worthy of ninja, of thieves. A samurai leaves through the doors.

Usagi finds a boulder in the sun and tries to relax while he waits.

* * *

He isn't sure how long he has been sitting there, drifting in and out of meditation, when a door opens across the courtyard. Usagi looks up when he hears footsteps, just in time to see a small figure step into the open. At first it seems like Usagi's presence has gone unnoticed, but then the man stops and turns around.

Their eyes meet.

Usagi likes to think that over the years he has learned to control his emotions quite well, but in that very moment he is not sure what his face is doing. It is the man, in the end, who speaks first.

"Miyamoto-san." A pause. "What a… surprise."

"Indeed," Usagi says and gets to his feet. "It is good to see you well, Splinter-san."

Silence falls between them that Usagi is unwilling to break. Again, it is Splinter who does. "Forgive me," he mutters. "I was not aware we had a visitor."

"I did not mean to intrude."

"And I was under the impression that you were headed south the last time we met," the man continues as if Usagi hadn't spoken. He doesn't sound angry, seems barely intrigued, yet something about his voice gives Usagi pause.

"I was," he finally says. "But it appears fate had other plans."

It doesn't take long to sum up the events of the past day. To Usagi's surprise, Splinter seems satisfied with his tale. Not for the first time, he finds himself wondering what role Michelangelo plays in this court. Of course he is aware that it is not his place to ask, and so he pushes the thought aside.

"So… here I am," he finishes.

"Yes," Splinter says slowly. "Here you are." He is standing very still, all senses focused on Usagi. It is a bit unsettling, but Usagi forces himself to meet the man's eyes steadily, and in the end, Splinter smiles. "You continue to surprise me, Miyamoto-san."

"I try," Usagi says dryly. "I can be very trying."

That at last earns him a startled laugh. "Indeed! And do you plan to stay with us for a while?"

"I will take my leave as soon as the gates are opened. If I may be frank with you, Splinter-san, I do not believe I am welcome here."

Splinter frowns. "Who gave you that impression? I am sure it was not the guards."

"Only the one," Usagi says. "The young man with the keys."

A sigh escapes Splinter, and at last he averts his gaze. "In that case, I must apologize again. Raphael can be… difficult, when he is upset."

To that, Usagi finds he has no reply. By profession a samurai is always in control of his emotions, and it is hard to see what "Raphael" could have taken offense at. In the end, he simply shrugs. "Perhaps," he allows. "Will the gates be opened again soon?"

Another frown; this one sticks. "I believe so. But frankly, Miyamoto-san, I don't believe our walls could hold you if you wanted to leave."

Usagi looks at the hole-riddled walls with more than a little disdain, though he hopes it doesn't show. "A samurai leaves through the doors."

There is a pause. When their eyes meet again, Usagi fights down the sudden embarrassment that tries to take a hold of him. He is a ronin, has been masterless for years, and arrogance is the first step to downfall. But even so, he has his pride. Eventually, Splinter nods; when he turns away, Usagi could swear he sees the beginnings of a smile on the man's face.

"I shall go and look for Raphael," he says. "In the meantime, please consider yourself our guest. I am afraid there is not much we can offer you, but some parts of the castle have not yet lost their old shine, and I would hate for you to go without having seen any of it."

"Thank you," Usagi says. "I would like that."

Splinter takes the lead, motioning for Usagi to follow him. "I believe you will like our Pavilion of Past Champions. We used to hold many a kenjutsu competition within these walls. The Lotus school of swordsmanship was well known."

Finally, some of the pieces click into place. "I believe I have met some of your students on my travels," Usagi says. "I remember the clan crest, now."

Splinter appears amused. "Do you partake in competitions?"

"I used to, sometimes." Usagi smiles at the memory. "Not so much now that I am older. It feels a bit unfair to the young and aspiring."

"Surely you are not that old."

Usagi laughs, but doesn't say anything in reply. Eventually, Splinter stops in front of high double doors and turns the handle.

"In here, please."

As soon as they enter, the warmth of the morning sun fades away and makes room for cool, dry air. The hall is larger than Usagi had anticipated. High windows draw patterns on the walls and illuminate the rows of statues that are placed on both sides of the elongated room. Their faces, intricately carved out of wood and stone, hold compassion and pride. Usagi sucks in a breath when he realizes what he is seeing.

"You keep records of all your past champions like this?"

His voice, even as a whisper, carries far through the shadows. Splinter's smile is soft when he nods.

"The Hamato family used to be very rich," he says. "This was their way to honor the warriors that travelled all this way to take on the challenge."

Usagi feels like he should say something, but he is at a loss of words. Amidst the ruins of this castle, the pavilion feels like a sanctuary.

"I will leave you to have a look around if you wish," Splinter says. "I am going to find Raphael."

"Yes," Usagi mutters. "Thank you."

He listens to Splinter's footsteps until they have faded away. Silence falls again, but for the first time in days, it feels peaceful. Usagi takes a few tentative steps towards the nearest statue. He doesn't bother to read the engraved metal sign at the base. The man standing here is a stranger. And yet there is something familiar about the way he holds his sword aloft in victory. Usagi's fingers trace the hilt of his own katana, not drawing it but drawing comfort from its presence.

He walks on.

There are many statues in the pavilion, more than he would have estimated at first glance. Many depict kame warriors, but equally many do not. The further Usagi comes, the more he notices difference in style and quality of the work. The statues must cover many decades of competition. He can't help but wonder—

The doors creak behind him. Usagi spins around, heartbeat pounding. Outlined by the bright sun is a kame. They regard each other for a few moments, then the stranger nods, and Usagi straightens up and returns the gesture. He watches for a bit longer, but the kame does not walk very far. He seeks out one of the statues near the entrance and bows his head. Relieved, Usagi turns back to his own investigation.

One of the statues near the end is missing. Intrigued, Usagi walks closer. He finds a weapon rack made of metal on which two katana swords are displayed. Even hidden, their beauty is evident; the polished bamboo of their sheaths gleams in the sunlight that streams in through the windows, and dark leather and blue silk form intricate patterns around the hilts. For the first time since he entered, Usagi reads the inscription at the base.

_Hayashi Namiwakiru and Hayashi Amagumo  
entrusted to the Hamato family upon the death of their master_

The blacksmith's name is listed, but there is no sign of the weapons' masters. Usagi even goes so far as to walk around the base in search of another inscription, but to no avail. When he reaches the middle of the hallway again, he gives up and takes a step back, regarding the blades with puzzlement. That is when he feels the first tingle of warning.

Someone else is here.

He casts a look to the left, to the door through with he entered earlier. The kame is still there, seemingly lost in meditation. Nothing about him appears out of the ordinary. Usagi frowns, irritated by his own irritation, and turns back to his inspection of the swords when he catches a movement out of the corners of his eyes.

_Not him._

"Watch out!"

The words leave his mouth before he is consciously aware of speaking. The kame looks up, startled out of his tranquility; when he sees Usagi move towards him, he takes a step back, and a crossbow bolt whizzes past him and buries itself deeply in the wooden base of the nearest statue.

In the breathless second that follows, the sound of _Yagi no Eda _leaving its sheath rings impossibly loud. Usagi skids to a halt on the marble floor, narrowly avoids plowing headfirst into the stranger and uses his momentum to spin around instead.

"Get out of here!" he yells, motioning for the doors, when all around them the shadows come to life. "Come on, _move_!"

He pushes backwards, and the kame staggers back. They break apart when another crossbow bolt shoots out of the darkness. This time, Usagi is prepared; a quick turn of his wrist is enough to split the bolt before it can split his head, and he runs for the source which appears to be a statue not far from him.

He hears the movement before he sees it. A dark shape jumps him from the shadows, and he ducks and rolls to the side, avoiding the punch that was aimed at his face and meeting it with his blade. The figure drops without so much as a sound. Usagi can make out black clothes, a hood concealing the man's features, before he is forced to spin away again to dodge another sword. It is enough to confirm his suspicions. _Ninja. _Just his luck, to spend his night in the one castle that appears to be completely overrun with scum. He parries a downwards blow, twists his wakizashi to push the blade out of the way and rushes forwards. His opponent is caught off guard, and Usagi manages to all but impale him, but in the process, his short sword is wrought from his hand. No time to try to free it from the body. Already, he can hear the tell-tale click of another bolt in the crossbow. And now he can see the source: another ninja, perched precariously on top of the statue next to him. He is not aiming at Usagi, but at the kame who for some unknown reason is still standing by the doors, watching the fight with wide eyes.

"No!"

Usagi leaps, pushes off the pedestal of the statue and makes a grab for the shooter. The force of his blow costs them both their balance, and the arrow goes wide when the statue begins to topple. Usagi lets go, pushing backwards in an attempt to stabilize the display, but the ninja jumps after him.

"Nice try," he whispers, "but can you-"

Whatever else he was about to say is cut short when the hilt of Usagi's katana connects with his skull. There is a loud crack, and the man slumps.

"Apparently, I can," Usagi says with a wry smile. "You fight without honor, assassin. That is why…"

He trails off when it becomes apparent that the man is out cold and cannot hear him. With a sigh, Usagi concentrates on minimizing the damage to the pavilion. It takes both hands to steady the wobbly statue; luckily, the rest of the ninja have scattered after his outburst. When Usagi is positive that no further attack is imminent, he makes his way over to the doors, collecting his wakizashi in the process.

The kame is still there, leaning against the doorframe – or rather, Usagi discovers with growing concern as he comes closer, holding on to it in an effort to remain upright. But even as he watches, the stranger's breathing calms and he straightens up. By the time Usagi reaches him, he regards him evenly.

"Are you all right?" Usagi asks, just to make sure.

The kame has the good grace to look embarrassed. "Thanks for saving my shell," he says, rubbing his neck.

Usagi smiles. "You are welcome."

"I am Leonardo," the kame says. "And… I am in your debt."

Usagi barely manages to hold back a sigh when he hears the name. _Note to self: Practice pronunciation of kame names. _"I am Miyamoto Usagi. One of your men offered me shelter for the night. I was just admiring the pavilion when I saw you set upon by those dishonorable assassins."

The kame laughs weakly. "Lucky for me," he mutters.

"Luck has very little to do with it," Usagi says. "It is about skill, about control of your energies. Your mind and your blade should be as one." Which is why his master Katsuichi-sensei would have his head if he ever found out about the incident with the wakizashi. Rightfully so. What a rookie mistake to make.

At least Leonardo's tired smile appears genuine. "My sensei used to tell me the same thing," he says. "Alas, you can see how well that turned out."

Unexpectedly, a cough wrecks his form, and he doubles over. With a concerned frown, Usagi reaches out to steady him, but he is waved off. "I am fine," Leonardo whispers hoarsely. "My apologies." He straightens up, grasping the doorframe for support, and wipes his mouth. "Just not as quick on my feet as I used to be. Any… other advice?"

Out of the shadows, Usagi's ears pick up on the tinkling of metal on metal. Instinctively, his hands go back to his sword.

"Yes. Duck."

* * *

_If my research is correct, the blade names translate to Cutting Through Waves (Namiwakiru) and Raincloud (Amagumo). Hayashi is the name of the blacksmith._


End file.
